


Breaking Threads

by QueenOfGathering



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Divergence - Iron Man 3, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-01-20 19:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfGathering/pseuds/QueenOfGathering
Summary: I get it, you’re sad and I’d love to hug the shit out of you if I meet you, but it’s getting exhausting. This system universe gave us? It better point me towards the ass I have to proclaim my other half.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s here again, the tide has come in. Usually I’d be fond of the waters but this is not it. I’m not in any coastline but stood still on the tile floors. Cold and I’m not talking about the tiles. I had these feelings before, it’s aching and suffocating. If I could crack open my chest and spooling the inside, I would do it in a heartbeat to take this uneasiness away. The feeling comes like drum beats slowly hitting its crescendo, and I—

Fuck. Did I break something again?

The notion is along the lines of every two person in the world are able to feel each other’s emotions… it’s a romantic gesture to some, informative to others. But to me? It’s a garbage system the universe put on humans simply because we are too stupid to find our own soulmates without any hint to what they look like.

Every scar, inflicted pain, intense moods, even hitting your goddamn feet into the foot of the table is enough for that other mate to go _what other stupid shit are they doing now?_

I don’t know if they're on another side of the world or right down this very fucking block. I don’t care, just… Enough with the depressive episodes because I have to work today.

Lately, that other mate has taken my moods to the extreme. Anger has never been something I do often, but apparently uncontrollably smashing the wall three times a week at work ought to do it. Having nightmares? Don’t mind if I do, there’s nothing better than to be woken up in the middle of a particularly nice dream about marshmallows. Also, what’s up with the lack of sleep? Some of us have actual jobs, okay?

I think what he gets from me is perpetual annoyance and irate, a couple of clumsy bruises, some existential crises, that’s about it. It’s a walk in the park compared to what he gave me.

I get it, you’re sad and I’d love to hug the shit out of you if I meet you, but it’s getting exhausting. This system universe gave us? It better point me towards the ass I have to proclaim my other half.

“I’m not good. This isn’t good.” I put down my mug by the kitchen counter and lay on the cold floor. Intentionally pressing my cheek against the tile and told myself—and my mate mentally—to calm down and no one is out to get us. My rapid breathing presses the side of my ribs against the ground, each time it’s getting heavier and the fetal position doesn’t make it any better.

“Dude, fucking walk it off. Come on.” Muffled sounds coming from the television by the living room snap me out of my trance. I tried to regain focus and direct my attention away from the panic attack by reading the news ticker.

> TONY STARK DECLARED DEAD AFTER MALIBU HOUSE ATTACK | MANDARIN TERROR RISES DEMAND IN TECHNOLOGY SECURITY, EU CONFIRMED | SOKOVIAN ARMY BARRICADED ITS SOUTHERN BORDERS AFTER HEAVY FIRE WITH RUSSIA, 57 DEAD

“At least I know you are still alive, I feel bad for whoever Tony Stark’s soulmate is right now.” Slightly light-headed and reaching for that coffee buzz to numb it down, I went ahead to my room and prep before heading out to work.

Little did I know…?

Tony and Harley sat atop the rubble of the burned house, gazing at the shadows plastered on its scorched walls. Illuminated by the emergency light on the ground, Tony tried to pinpoint exactly what had caused the explosions. Breaking the silence, Harley chirped in while marking the crater in front of them, “Do you know what this crater reminds me of?”

Tony felt strange buzz crept up his spine, mentally shook it off and abruptly replied, “What?”

“That giant hole in New York.” Harley motioned the skies, and Tony’s cheeks suddenly felt warm. He felt someone pressed heavy rock on his gut, his rapid breaths start to acting up. Deliriously tried to calm himself down, his mind flashes a memory he tried so hard to suppress.

“Can we not talk about New York?” Tony shiver uncontrollably, subconsciously wrapped himself—almost to the point of gripping the side of his own arms— then come his uneasiness with wide, unblinking eyes trying to snatch the blurring reality.

“Why, is this stuff made you edgy?” Harley’s concern expression grew, yet he is clueless as to how to calm Tony down. It’s like talking to a time bomb.

“Are you not on medication?”

“Nope.”

“Do you need to be in one?”

“Probably—can you stop?” Tony’s skin felt prickly, hands shriveled as his sprint away from the burned house and into stoplight pole few yards away. “Gah! You just did it, didn’t you—” He stumbled onto the cold pole, holding on for dear life and clutching into his chest. Heavy and tiring, this feeling is.

As he grab a handful of snowfall and bury his face in it, before throwing some at Harley.

Meanwhile…

I remembered a few years ago where my soul-markings would be occasional and around the cheeks, there's that feeling fizzing stung after getting slapped. Also, couple of bruises on my neck, back, and under my eyes thus requiring a lot of concealer.

But then there are big ones, I’ve been paralyzed in the middle of the bar and recalling the paramedics who told me I’m bleeding out of my ears for no medical reason. On top of that, there is always this burning, circling sensation in my chest. Now? Add all of those, along with occasional sting on my left hand, and my joints are just aching all over. My best-friend told me it connected to a heart condition.

“Or you’re just stressed.” She concluded.

“Thank you for that assessment, Virginia. What a great joke the universe decides to make.” Sneering in the middle of editing an article does burn extra calories. Though it’s not easy to juggle phone call in the midst of deadline, I just had to answer her call especially what went down.

Pepper had been at Malibu when Mandarin attacked, at Tony’s house to be exact. It was a ballsy move for Stark to spill his address and essentially taunting a criminal to assault him. But then again, it’s him so I wouldn’t be surprised.

My network got a fantastic footage out of it though, breaking news for hours on end.

Through static tone Pepper inquired, “Speaking of a great joke, I saw Aldrich Killian before Tony went missing.” Yeah, Tony has been missing for a few days since Christmas. Even though the media played it with hashtag Rest in Peace, Tony's message for Pepper just hours after the attack is proof of life and enough to chisel hope into her mind. Tony is missing, not dead.

I know she meant to divert the subject to something work-related but this is— “Nice but slightly mean segue. Isn’t that the guy who, when you take one look, just makes you feel sad yet, you sort of keeping distance from?”

“Yea, anyway. He came by and had this pitch about his company, want Stark Industries to invest. But now, he looked different.” Her words trail off and practically begging for continuation. I am not one for gossip but Pepper spilling teas? It better served hot.

“Why do I feel like you’re conflicted by this? How much has he changed, like good amount—?” I went full on detecting this Killian had an insane glow-up, because his google search came out and boy he served looks.

Pepper continued, “Great amount. Physical therapy apparently.”

“How’s Tony reacting to this?”

“What’s Tony got to do with this?” Pepper tried to come off casual, but at this point we both know she’s just avoiding the inevitable.

Those two are just… at each other’s neck. At one point, Pepper believed being given Stark Industries are formalities since no one would take it off Tony’s hands. We all know better who to trust than those who are close to us, but apparently she refused to see it. “Pepper, he’s been throwing heart signs at you the moment he gave the company. What kind of encouragement do you want?”

“I tried pinching him in the arms and I didn’t feel a thing, how’s that for a discouragement?” That does put a damp in their relationship. I’ve seen way too many couples who fall out of love and blame on their absence of soul-marks on each other. It's that people thought soul-marks bring goodwill to those who believe it, there's enough Lifetime movies selling like hotcakes based on that premise alone. But the reality is rather contrarian, it gets sad real quick.

People love despite the soul-marks, it's not that difficult to point out one's attraction over the other since there are other indicators beside it like I don't know... personality? What's in their hearts? It's fucking cliché, leave me alone. “Just because the universe puts on that stupid rule, doesn’t mean you have to blindly follow it. I know how devastated you feel when his Malibu house just combusted—“

“Yea, yea. I know. But I also know when I look at a person and feel that he is not meant for me.”

Whenever we talk, Tony seems to be this illustriously undisclosed individual existed in between the lines of Pepper’s stories. On top of that, I never really know the guy except during our brief interview after the government insist on the acquisition of his tech. Long before Iron Man, and after Christine from metro desk talks about him with such ugly tone.

Despite that, Pepper seemed to swoon whenever Tony’s in the mix of our conversation, which I can tell.

Pepper encouraged, “Seriously, you should meet him.” Expanding the network is not that bad, I’ve been to parties before and my work does require me to be extra social. But, I don’t know.

“Why? I don’t work for him. I recall he sort of despises Christine from the metropolitan desk.” And the feeling was mutual.

“Yea well, she does have the tendency to overlook journalistic values in front of Tony—“Pepper defended, but I go with her on this one.

I snorted since the use of ‘journalistic values’ and Christine in one sentence was rude to the values. We all know what went down since the era of Pepper throwing trash away in Stark mansion. “Excuse you, what do you know about this journalistic value? She’s irritating, just go with that—“

“Meet him, just come swing by the office.”

“You seem to forget that we have to find him first.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something about soulmates being able to sync-in their behaviors, even brushed on each other's emotions. Also why, why am I so rude? I don’t mean to come off so mean but he brings out something far malicious than intended.

After Mandarin attacked Tony’s residence, I got a call in from Pepper to come by Malibu since she was at lost for words, as half of the Stark mansion went down the waters. I was in Tennessee, on a follow-up interview for my current investigative piece. Quickly turned the motel TV on, I saw the rubble and what used to be the first floor of Tony’s place.

Comforting Pepper through telephone call felt like déjà vu, almost nostalgic. Often trying to make her feel better through hard day’s work: always one step behind and around Tony Stark, catering to his every whim before he was Iron Man and becoming the most powerful woman of the most-advanced tech company in the world.

It would be easier if it weren’t for sudden cold huffing air coming out of my mouth. Is my mate an adrenaline junkie who just impulsively went on a ski trip? Do I sense ghosts? What is this—

I called the paramedics once again. “This is a terrible time for us to feel a bit of hypothermia, don’t you think?” I said to myself, rather remind my mate who seems to be on the Swiss Alps now. It was a brisk sensation and the EMT who handled me said I was frozen to the touch.

It was sudden drop of body temperature the EMT said, sent chills down my spine.

Since the soulmate rule was a general acknowledgement worldwide, EMT and paramedics had countless narratives with cause and effects between mates who are actively sync-in their behavior. Meaning, they’ve seen weird shit one soulmate done to the other. On multiple occasion, EMT are required to offer medical assistance should one mate reveal dangerous for the other. But, I always refuse and I told the EMT, “I wanna know how far he stretch his luck before eventually kill us both.”

Few days later.

Rose Hill was quaint, and I would be ecstatic if it weren’t for work. I was pulling a story on disabled veterans who are still employed by private sector, and came across few profiles and the initial AIM plastered all over.

I was about to approach my source at the town bar, meeting the victim’s mother when I saw a familiar figure sat next to me. Disheveled and few scars settled on his face, calloused hands but that darn beard and side-profile almost gave it away.

I turned to him, “I knew you’re still alive. You’re Tony. Pepper’s Tony.”

He shifted his seat facing me, glaring in and lower his voice. Tried not to sound impressed, “Huh, I thought you’d be saying the rest of my name. You know Pepper?”

“You made Virginia sad for no fucking reason, why didn’t you reveal that you’re still alive?” He made a face when I mentioned the name ‘Virginia’, as if Pepper’s actual name was deemed too foreign for civilian ears.

It kind of is, but I still call her that out of sheer amusement in people’s faces.

“First of all, Virginia sounds weird. I think you know it too—“I nodded as it dawn on me, he continued. “Second of all, I’m in the middle of figuring something out and the last thing I need is people looking for me after declaring me-not-dead.”

“Oh right, Mandarin. Gotcha.” I took my drink and had it swirling in my grasp. I was trying to build up another courage to approach the woman, because again she is a sensitive case and I tend to cut to the chase. The woman sounded heartbroken when I mentioned her son’s name on the phone, and I went ‘oh no I have to be extra careful’ because cases like these are just boomerangs for the families and—

“You know there are other places to take a vacation than Tennessee, right?” Tony quipped after gulping his drink, didn’t even bother to look at me. How dare him, with his… pink children watch, judging me on my taste of vacationing.

“Excuse me, let me just spent extra dollars for a quick trip to Italy— whoops I’m broke! Can I have your credit card?” I snappily answered him, he stare back and presses that sly smile on his smug-ass face.

After letting out breathy laugh he return the banter with, “Should've done it yesterday, honey. I’m still alive back then.” I never meant to come off snappy but what is it with the attitude? Odd energy coming from him, like an itch I can’t scratch.

He mimics my expression and I have to quickly come up with another one, “Aw shucks, guess you’re stuck with me in fucking Tennessee. Nice watch, hotshot.” He switched his sight to his right wrist and raised his eyebrows, as if finding lost keys by the couch. There's that twinkle in his eyes I can't seem to address but it's excruciatingly aggravating to see him pleased with what I do.

He brought the Dora the Explorer watch closer to my line of sight. Despite feeling bit irked by his mere presence, the occurrence came out rather natural. You know that feeling of returning to an old neighborhood after years deserting it? Yeah, that. “Thanks, they’re limited edition. Why are you here, exactly?”

I felt him growing on edginess with being around a citizen who recognizes him. It’s only natural when you’ve been acquainted with bad people, being an avenger and all. So I went, “None of your business. Now, will you excuse me?”

Why, why am I so rude? I don’t mean to come off so mean but he brings out something far malicious than intended. There’s that whirring feeling in my chest again. I need to focus. I got out of his way and stride over to the woman in question. She seemed occupied with her drink, glared at me through the rim of her glass. I felt bump on my shoulder and there Tony was already sprinting question at my source. My breath hitches at my throat for my words were overridden by his.

“She’s with me. We’re working on a project, for our investigative program—thing.” I guess he did remember where we first met. Tony sat across the lady, leaving a bit of space with me behind him as if I’m the dim-witted partner in this alliance.

The lady rigidly responded, “I’ve answered it all with the police.”

I waved my hand towards the lady, and yet I can sense Tony’s growing indignation bulking behind his head pointed at my direction. “Ma’am, we just want to bring justice to your son. This story is too important not to tell.” Nothing like diplomatic statement to coax my sources.

Just as she is about to give us his son’s file, our conversation was interrupted by someone claiming she’s from Homeland Security. A hindrance, really. Others tried to restrain her but a few seconds later she fucking glows like real fucking lava and fucking kills the town sheriff, what the fuck?

At this point all I want was the goddamn file. As the townsfolk scrambled out of the blazing bar, I took the brown file and stormed out to one of the parked cars, lying as clandestine as I fucking possibly can.

Sudden yelp comes out of me as something strikes my left side, sweltering as if fire were thrown at me. The diner across me burst into flames as I saw Tony hit right by the water tower.

I did nothing but apparently my mate hit something, fuck. Then I felt sharp brute force towards my thigh, heavy and completely shocked me to my spine. Everything was resonating and loud as I heard Tony again, his voice pulls me out of my ailment. I look over to my left and I saw him in the distance, trapped underneath the beams supporting the water tower. It was on his right thigh…. I looked down at mine and quickly brushes off those thoughts. There’s no way he’s _him_. My _him_.

The man who I assume was sent by Mandarin, had a kid trapped in his grasp. Tony implies, “Don’t worry, kid. You know what you’d do to bullies right?”

The kid blew up a small tool, and the man was blown out. Tony freed himself from the beam by brandishing his pre-made blasters somehow, melting it. I let out a short cry as my palm burned, Tony did the same.

No.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You thought, "This is uncharted territory, and somehow the universe love a sick joke."  
> "You know, I'd picture us meeting in a slightly laid-back situation... Kinda like that meeting Gatsby had with Daisy, not like how Leia had with Han." Tony shrugged.

You know what? No.

I'm not going to jump into conclusion that somehow I'm wired to this man. This broken soul of a man, the former industrialist. Yes, I prefer him in that title since 'an Avenger' seems too much for me right now, dramatic and beside the point. You know why it's too much? He has streak of luck for the sake of saving millions, and that makes this fucking selfless bastard ready to risk it all, also simply because he is Iron Man. I don't want to be in sync with him when serendipity was so thinly spread that I got fucking obliterated in the process, no.

There's little evidence and a whole lot of adrenaline to makes us... _it_.

"Earth control to Major Tom, tell me you have the file." Tony snapped me out my trance, and I blew incredulous look pointed towards him. Even at the aftermath, I still want to strangle Tony.

Once again, the anger has got to stop, mate. Because it’s not coming from me.

I swiftly stood up and went to where Tony and the kid was. He saw me belting the brown file and gestured to hand it over to him, as he limped towards one of the parked cars.

“No. This is mine, sorry.”

But, no. Tony had to snatch it off my hands and did a double take. Eyebrows arched and nose slightly flared, he took my hand and held it palm-side up, as the lesion matches his. My eyes grew wider as I pulled back, clutching my injured palm to my chest. He mirrors my movement as he realizes that it was his stress, his blasters, and he’s about to run out of kismet.

“How’s your sleep?” Tony gazes upwards, from my hand to my face. His eyes twitched, like camera lens adjusting its focus and I felt scrutinized under his observation.

“Still got mood-swings?” I slowly asked him. Sudden shattering sense of wanting to hug Tony, surging out of nowhere. I almost felt sorry for him. Right, all Iron Man gets from me are clumsy bruises, perpetual irate mood-swings, and existential crises. But he had to endure it all during near-death experiences like one we just had.

“How about me, saving your life?” The kid exclaimed. Tony subconsciously rolled his eyes and replied, “Kid, you don’t brag about saving people, be cool about it. “ Somehow I was glad the kid decided to ignore Tony’s behavior and straight up wave his hand to me, smiling. Harley, he introduced himself.

I waved back at Harley, took a stance across Tony. He seemed to be in an immersive monologue before I snapped him back to meet my gaze, “Tony, he’s just a kid.”

Tony told me to zip it as he placed his hand to my face, I saw that matching wound once again and my heart warms. I guess he felt it too, even for a brief moment since he put his hand down and stares at me, disbelieve expression painted in strong strokes. “No, no, you don’t get a say in this. You need to be— away.”

This newfound discovery was too much for both of us, honestly. I’m not going to lie, my feelings were bruised when he told me to walk out. I know he didn’t mean it, I should’ve just go but— “I would love that, I just want my file.”

Our eyes interlocked, as if the internal monologue slowly merges into enclosed conversation. Without warning, we threw debates on how to proceed on taking the Mandarin while having the file but not together? I don’t know if it’s the injured thigh or he’s just a dumbass, but we both know the file isn’t up for grabs. We just have to take turns.

Fuck, if he’s really my mate then I have to watch this dense genius making horrible decisions essentially dragging me along with it. Well, after the bruises I guess he _is_ my dumbass.

Oh, no.

“Guys, sharing is caring.” I heard Harley to our left, as he fiddles with the strings on his hoodie.

“I don’t care about her—“Tony exclaimed rather too quickly, as the color paled his face. Clenching my chest, I went “Aww, you’re breaking my heart… That makes two of us, buddy.”

“The last thing I need is… you. I’m sorry.” Wow, what a low blow coming from a man whose arms sling around different women per magazine covers. Not that I’m reading those, it’s hard to miss when you’re commuting with neighbors who love Page Six. He drew closer and his expression softened, those tired eyes wandered around mine as if he’s skimming for details from a paragraph in a book. “This is a hostile situation and you are here with me which is dangerous already.”

“Well, I’ve been in worse scenarios. I just want the file, Tony. I’ll be out of your hair, seriously.” He handed the file to me, uncharacteristically allowing me to flip the pages before he motioned me to go inside the passenger seat of the car.

Paradox, this man is. Telling me to go away by setting me next to him en route to terrorist cell?

Tony told Harley to go home and stay awake, monitoring the suits. Which is child labor if I’m not mistaken, but the kid was too enthusiastic to watch over Iron Man’s suit to even be petrified of his own mother for staying up late.

“After the whole thing, maybe we can get lunch. How’s Saturday sounds?” Tony nonchalantly asked, as we part with Harley and sped off the ablaze town. I figured things had simmer down that _this_ is the Tony Pepper is telling me about.

There’s something about this interaction that seemed so simple-hearted. But since he’s being straightforward, I had to lay him down with truth. “Deadline, sorry.”

“Multitasking, I’m sure you can figure it out since you know… we’re connected.” Not backing down is what I heard and experienced from countless people ask me to meet up under the pretense of ‘insider government tidbits’, but really they just want to get into my pants.

This is different circumstance, though. Soulmates have to do FAQ once they meet and I don’t know what I’ll do once it’s there… you know, information about him.

“That’s not how soulmate works, you idiot.”

“So you admit that _we_ are idiots?” Involuntarily I punched his arm causing him to skid of the lane for a brief second. Both of us goes, “Ow.”

\--

We’ve been in exchange of discourse about his house under attack, regarding the file and people associated with Mandarin to suddenly being asked, “How long have you known?”

My eyes zero in on the files to actually almost forgot responding to Tony. I guess he tried to make small talk, because long commute started to wear him down. “There it is, AIM. That initials keep coming up, I don’t understand—how long have I known what?”

“That.” He gestured towards my palm once again, continued with”—and that we’re…” Even mentioning the word makes me gag under my breath, he emulated my expression with eyes concentrated on the road.

“When you got stuck under the water tower—” I briefly explained but he cuts me off with, “Fine. It’s not important. What are soulmates for anyway? Not efficient, should’ve just pair us up from day one. Even better, not using it at all. “

“Okay, Tony.” I figured to just agree with this blabbering mess.

“It’s not AIM, it is MIA. Missing in Action.” Tony stated, but I reciprocated with different theory and the colors drenched away from his face.

“No, I know it is AIM because the initials kept on appearing in some of the files I have back home…” I flipped to one of the pages and catch a glimpse of someone familiar, “See? Wait, that’s the fake Homeland Security lady.”

He peered over one page I highlighted, shows a woman who resembles the recently projectile-vomiting lava in Tony's face. Few seconds later, Tony's face contorted to a knowing look and quickly dialed Harley's number. “AIM? Fuck.”

“What? What have we uncover?”

His mind rushes from one idea to the next that I’m finding trouble to keep up, so I intently observe Tony as he made another call. “J, got anything on Mandarin? Where are we talking, the Middle East?”

“It’s in Miami.”

“Alright, kid. I’ll walk you through to re-calibrating Jarvis’ speech pattern. You see the map next to you, where does it land on?”

“It actually is _in_ Miami. I’m not sleepy, okay? Candies help.” Oh, I feel sorry for Harley. It’s almost 3AM and the kid is gorging on sweets so he won't asleep?

“Okay, kid. How’s my suit?”

“It’s not charging.” The car screeched to a stop. I look to my left and saw Tony, eyes unblinking and wide. He stepped out of the car and pacing next to his car door. The files were scattered on the dashboard and in my lap, I warily keep an eye on him back and forth along with the AIM file. I know that look all too well, been acquainted with hugging the floor way too often for it not to be a common activity.

The thing is, I use to do it without the knowledge of who and where my other mate is. I make sure he is safe whenever he is as both of us power through the panic attacks, long distance. But now that he's here, it is uncharted territory and I really don't know what will happen once he starts to feel that things are out of his control.

Then I heard Jarvis by the loudspeaker, “Sir, it is charging but it only powers the exoskeleton for a few minutes. The auxiliary powers are still down.”

It's coming. I fully expect this but my heart can't take it. I gasped for air, repeatedly tried to calm myself down. Do you know that feeling when you have hot bubbles filling up your insides? Yeah, that but it is worse. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Not right now.” I sprinted towards Tony, who squats on the ground, his hand clutching on the door handle.

People who has it, and while being _in_ _it_ , doesn’t want to be touched. I don’t know how to calm a person, whose mind runs wild and overwhelmed without actually having physical contact to him.

Rapid and shaky breaths with eyes trying to grasp onto reality, Tony breathes. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—“

I heard Harley by the speaker, monotone in nature but he accidentally mentioned, “What, is it happening again? We’re not even talking about New York.”

Tony sounded on edge, his mind processing a lot at once as if the waters slowly sinking him, consequently us. “You’re saying the word while denying having said—“

On eye-level in front of him while trying to snap him up I go, “Hey, hey. Oh, fuck. Hey, look at me.” He shudders as his eyes roaming everywhere, avoiding mine. Subconsciously tears stream down my face but I refuse to let my voice falter for one second, “This isn’t fun for both of us, okay? Walk it off, dude. Breathe.”

I retract from his gaze and attempt demonstrate what I read about calming people with anxiety down. Telling them to shift their attention to something else. “Focus on me. I’ll stand here. Just look at me, what did you see?”

“You’re making things worse. You’re my _soulmate,_ and you’re here. You should be somewhere safe, I want you safe and not here with me—” Oh, no. That’s south of where it supposed to go. I guess those books were misleading, it’s getting worse and I can’t breathe—

Out of nowhere, Harley soothed. “Tony, you’re a mechanic, right? Why don’t you just build something?”

I saw Tony Stark, this vulnerable man slowly assembling himself. His breathing collected. His sight gravitated to me as I gently approached him. He didn’t flinch nor pushing me aside, as our forehead touches. His hands grip my arms, reassuring me and partly himself that he has remained afloat after the storm.

We acknowledge each other. I guess he _is_ my dumbass, as I am his. He—we will power through this, together.

Both of us said in unison, “Thanks, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in mourning, since Endgame happened. Which is why it took a while for me to write Tony here, though I've been reading a lot fix-it fics to cope with the pain :(
> 
> I can't even deal with the emotions, guys. That Endgame ending was just... lazy writing and a bad fanfic lol.


	4. Chapter 4

Alright, mundane, what are those words? It’s conforming, and out of the extraordinary. I’d picture a bland spaghetti dinner with my equally pasty soulmate after a 9-to-5 day job. It was my initial recognition after receiving what I can only assume was a nasty cut on my forearms in 7th grade. Having no recollection of ever obtaining fighting lessons, my parents quickly sat me down for a talk.

The birds and the bees? No, I’ve had that talk. Period talk? I had them too. This is about _the talk_. My parents reassure me that I am just as normal as any person, whose body is actively connected to someone else. My mother used to say that fate connected us through strings.

I saw a television commercial about it once. The premise was that everyone has strings attached to their finger, and we are all busy straightening our own strings to find the other end. But one person, tugged it and pulled. He crossed his house, someone's lawn, another state while others watched. The thing is, at some point in our life we might find where the other half of us are. Yet, we might not want to know who is at the other end of that string. I'm still fixating on this since I might not be Tony's soulmate but our matching bruises prove it otherwise.

Beneath our right eyes, to our back and shoulder. Thighs, and that spherical sensation in my chest? Well, you know... his are glowing.

We were still gathering our senses—mostly Tony—as I began, “And what is it you say? People _want_ to be your soulmate?”

Tony stared at me, feigned a _why_ expression on his features before exclaimed, “Wow, charming. What a way to knock a man down.” I snicker as my hands rubbing his back, alleviating his panicky demeanor. Like a giant baby, he seemed to hanker on the smothering more than he let on. For the record, I wouldn't want to be dick-deep in some problematic ass but I let him drown on that type of humor. As soon as he retracted his head and rest it against the car window, I witness his perception jumping from one view to another. From my eyes, to my right and then to the road.

Yeah, I admit. Tony’s side profile is kind of… thought-provoking. He could tone down the charm but that would resulted in such intense panic attack we experienced few seconds earlier, nobody’s perfect.

Tony narrows his eyes, bewildered at how easy it is for me to pass the hot plate statement of being his soulmate. “Okay, fact check. People would love, I mean, would actually do anything to prove I'm their soulmate—“

“Wait, people are _willing_ to be your soulmate? Why?” I held onto his shoulder to balance my stance upon the incredulity of the statement. Sure, it is Tony Stark. But it’s just him, you know? Why do some put him on such high horse? Sure, he’s saving the world and avenging it but… That’s a collective effort.

Tony raised his eyebrows and went, “Obviously, I'm irresistible. People person, I swoon, okay? God damn it, you're with the press. Don't you watch TV?”

On another side of things, our bruises start to gain its blue to almost purple hue. It stings every time I bend my fingers and I felt his touch on my shoulder. Rather I stated, “No, I only turn it on for the loud ambiance around my house.”

Few more notes to add, not only medical emergencies but also additional services are provided to accommodate the soulmate rule. Internet forums, matchmaking sites, even Tinder has that special section for those who actively searching for their halves. We want to find it, untangle the mess.

Finding our algorithms first, loving the shit out of somebody came second.

That’s when it clicked for Tony. We shared another glance and he subconsciously murmured, “Huh, there goes my little side-project.”

Tony intentionally neglected to tell me that apparently he also had seen the TV commercial, but only the ending. After the man pulled his string across the world, he circled back to his neighborhood few blocks behind his house and knocked on its doors. The door opens and there she was, at the nib of the thread. It was a commercial for soulmate finder service and Tony was appalled that he didn't think of making one for his own. Seven billion lives to sort through his little interface, when in reality he only needed to ask Pepper to set him up with her close friend.

Tony’s mind gone, ‘ _Lazy writing there, God_ ’.

As it dawned on me, I find it hard to suppress the urge to smile that I bit my lip, “You hate it that _I_ am your soulmate, isn't it?” A member of the press whose soulmate is someone who personally take offense of the spotlight. I let out a giddy laugh while he rolled his eyes, yet small smile escape his exhausted features. “Your job was the least of my worries. I love it, you're doing the world of good. But, I just— God, why do you have to show up now?”

My brain went, ‘ _Huh… nasty little trick, universe_.’

As we went inside the car and sped off, my head registered another possibly irritating notion. Before delegating it out to lessen the awkward car ride, the radio turned on by itself. Our attention shifted as that runty authoritative voice resonated through the speakers. “Mr. President, only two lessons remain and I intend to finish this before Christmas morning.” The broadcasts went override, Mandarin made another appearance as we rode off Rose Hill and both of us felt immense, underlying, almost seething bitterness hearing his tone.

Gunshot had me jumped in my seat and Tony momentarily closed his eyes as Mandarin continued, “There’s just one lesson left, President Ellis. So run away, hide, and kiss your children goodbye because nothing, not your army, not even your red, white, blue attack dogs can save you.”

Since we were actively sync-in, the mood-swing were relatively felt more intense. I got general anguish from him, and Tony receive magnitude of irritability from me. Those, added with our matching—God I’m fucking pissed at this soulmate thing—wounds made a trimly knit crochet of gruesome ordeal.

“Are you causing this? Because it’s not coming from me.” Tony broke the silence since we saw the sign of _You’re Leaving Rose Hill!_ Looking inordinately pissed as Tony gripped onto the steering wheel bit tighter.

“I’m perfectly fine, until you started it.” I snatch onto some tranquil mental picture but it’s not helping. This rage is useless, he’s useless. We’re going to die.

Fuck, this isn’t right. We’re not okay. I might have to make him stop the car once again because driving while infuriated probably will end our lives. I possess him as he possess me, and if I use force against a temper inherently volatile, we would probably ended up in each other’s throat before he crashes the car.

“Tony, direct your anger someplace else or we’d die in this car.”

Tony belted out a sigh as he leaned onto the steering wheel, before he turn his head in my direction and said, “You know, have you had straddling a person—I don’t know how your life is, I’m sure it’s a ball—and suddenly they glow inside out, kind of bright orange?”

I folded my arms, smile pressed across my face as I mouthed a no. “Okay, we’ll try phone a friend. D’you mind?”

Tony pressed onto series on numbers by the car phone. The other line ring three times before a man, who seems to be in the middle of something, answered. Colonel Rhodes sounded relieved, almost delighted that this is only the second time the news type rest in peace next to his best friend’s name. Then, Tony asked for some sort of account access from Colonel Rhodes? I remembered the Colonel is in weapons technology—

“I need a heavy duty comm set with your login.”

Rhodes had this serene tone rolling off the tongue, as if he had dealt with Tony’s shenanigans too many times. “I don’t want to change passwords every time you hack in, Tony.”

“It's not the 80s, nobody says hack anymore. Give me your login.” Tony with staccato in his voice, almost too fast-paced to be considered demanding.

Rhodes sighs and gave in, nobody refuses Tony for that long. I think the Colonel secretly love to be in some of Tony’s antics anyway, “WarMachine68, same as it’s always been.”

“Password, please.”

“WARMACHINEROX. With an X, all caps.”

Tony cackled as I smiled at him, never seen such carefree laughter coming out of the Iron Man. “That is... so much better than Iron Patriot.”

Wait, he said what now? I explained, “Iron Patriot has diplomacy written all over it, I'll have you know it helps our side to gain confidence on peace talks with the Middle East.”

Rhodes asked Tony, “Did you bring your own consultant in this? I thought I'm it.”

“Never mind the commentator.” Tony raised his hand to close my mouth from further shimmying myself cozy with Rhodes, but I swat his hands away and pressed on enthusiastically, “Hi, Colonel Rhodes. We've met, I interview you on the state of our advanced weapons division. We—“

Tony motioned me to stop talking, “Okay, can you continue the chatter at other times? We're chasing bad guys here.”

Rhodes ignores Tony and stepped in on my invitation to converse deeper. It seems that we share one thing we love to do, is making sure Tony is the third-wheel in this discussion, “Oh, yeah... Your 15-minute segment had me in stitches. Dealing with the press was so much worse since your piece came out, no offense.”

I giggled and went, “It's your words, Colonel.” Then, the Colonel told me to call him by his last name instead. Now, we’ve been cozied up. Tony jerked his head to me, raised his eyebrow coolly it look like he’s loving this banter.

Visibly grinning, Tony’s voice inquired, “Is she throwing you hard punches, Honey Bear?”

A small chuckle was heard through the static tones, “Nothing that I can't handle, Tones. I didn’t know you’d pick-up strangers in your adventures.”

I technically am a stranger in this mix, but that stings. I almost yell into the phone, claiming _well, I’d love to get out of this but we’re soulmates I need to make sure he’s not making stupid decisions_ but Tony then quietly answered, “This is different, Rhodey. You know the little side-project?”

A few seconds of total silence and Rhodes responded, “Oh, wow. Kill two birds with one stone, huh? Only one of them is trying to kill you.”

“No, no. She found me.” Before Rhodes instigate further into the details, Tony cuts him off with, “Rhodey, I’m know you’re in the middle of something important. Wouldn’t want to waste it on… I’m sure, an expensive phone call right now. Go save the world.” The line went dead.

“What is this secret side-project I keep hearing about, Honey Bear?” I jokingly asked him, and he chortled. “It's something. You don't have to worry about it. You know what you did just now? That’s meddling, okay?” Tony claimed without missing a beat and my eyebrows narrow in disbelief.

“Tony, you're not doing so hot either. I mean... since we are _it_ , I will always be, you know... Not okay.” I exclaimed and his expression falters. As we drove through Chattanooga, we stumbled upon an assembly by the town hall, and quickly went into the parking lot. Tony pulled me back before I headed inside the building and points me into one of the satellite trucks near us. I made almost a knowing look, and we went inside one the trucks. Tony was accessing a site through the computer, it’s a military domain. As the man no longer had access to National Security Contractors—had shed the industrialist title—Tony sighs and leans back into the chair.

Seconds later, Tony actively ignores me and marches on to accessing the site. After logging in using Colonel Rhodes’ account, he cross-references to any files pertaining AIM and boy did we find some interesting footage. We saw interviews of the deceased man from Rose Hill, even the Homeland Security lady who goes by Ellen Brandt.

Then the frame changed and exposed another man, shapely and leaning on the chair exclaiming words of vague encouragement. Playing heaven-sent parsonage to combatants whose vigor still apparent but their body betrays them, Killian gives refuge to those who withstood his experiment. The Extremis, he called it.

Our expression shifted, one might say astounded to the point that it is startling to see, most of these disabled soldiers grew missing body parts during the experiment. Glowing lava filled their insides and one managed to explode what the fuck?

“Okay, you want to make sure I’m not making dumb decision? I need loads of ammo, you in?” Tony propositioned. Just as I about to refuse, he continued, “Believe me, I want to send you away but that’s going to add more stress on our nerve—“

“Sharing baggage. Is this an invitation, Stark?”

“I know you're useful, and I need all hands on deck.” Tony reassured, as I nodded _what have I got myself into_ —I felt his eyes drifted down to search my face, sudden urge to slowly look down at his lips _what’s wrong with me stop it_. Tony ended with, “It’s a date.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We are each other's damsels-in-distress, there's no denying it. But I would love to get out of danger unscathed."

“Wow, I guess we’re skipping the first two dates, huh? What a deep commitment.” I tried to suppress my laughter, I really did. Tony scoffed at me, between that nose-scrunching and eyebrow-lift I guess the harmless joke was bothersome. The sky was still dark for an early joke, mixed in the morning air crisp enough for us to breathe. We the night owls were unaccustomed by this scenery, who knew sunup can look sanguine? 

Considering that we've been in some weird shit since last night, this one fell in the normal spectrum. Such saccharine tone escaping Tony's lips as we emerged from the car, “Yeah, third date at Home Depot, I know, special. I’m thinking about… multitasking and efficiency.”

I rubbed my forearms to ease the early breeze. “Huh, somehow that is so on-brand of you to do this.”

Well, this is a first. Tony said he needed ammo and wanted me to tag along, so we went. Apparently, it's a 6AM shopping spree at Home Depot. We purchased what seemingly an entire aisle, since Tony bought anything he saw. I mean _anything_. After spend the entire evening in complete chaotic energy, I was... honestly? Inherently conflicted by how things turn out between us.

“How do you know what kind of on-brand things I do? How do you know I’m not being impulsive right now?” Tony bombarded me, as he took another cart and entering electrical aisle.

“I think if you were being impulsive, you’d buy the whole store.” I followed him as we shared chortled laughter.

It was... we were... adjusting with each other. Even more so, we were actively doing it while figuring out how to deal with Mandarin. See, normalcy plastered all over. In the middle of it all, I have managed to pick up a few traits here and there but I’m sure he also did the same—“You know, I’d picture meeting the soulmate—you—through dinner at this place you chose. I thought I’d prepare, since I would’ve had your entire info through this special project I made.”

I figured that’s what he meant by ‘special little project' earlier from our conversation with Colonel Rhodes. There was a lingering tone at the end of his statement and I felt the urge to reply ever so teasingly, “Wow, cutting straight through. A man of my dreams.”

Tony tried to sound casual about the encounter but we are aware of how dangerous our situation can be. With the bond amplified upon us meeting, the sync-time was at closer time period. Stifled sigh I made doesn’t dampen the mood around us as I witness Tony occupied himself between few Christmas decorations.

Out of the blue, Tony’s eyes retracted from the decorative spheres by his grasp and met my gaze. He questioned, “Why do I want you to come with me?”

“You told me to come with.” The fluorescent lights reflected a grim tone onto the surrounding. Along with it, a faint white noise as it filled the silence since I am at loss to his predicament.

Meanwhile, Tony stride towards me. He dropped the decorative into the cart and continued, “Yeah, I’m aware of that part. I thought you’d be safer on my watch.”

I’m not sure the other side quickly knows who Tony’s soul-bonded person is. Even if they do, there’s little chance of success in snatching me because I’m still at Home Depot staring at this genius mess. “There’s no way they’re going to find out that I’m _it_ , Tony.”

“That’s the thing, we don’t know that and I can’t risk you. But we don’t have any good ideas right now—do you have a history of heartburn?” I replied no, while Tony turned away from me and clutching onto one of our deserted carts, rubbed his chest in circular motion.

Oof, all this soul-bond marking and mood-swing got us ramped up to the point where Tony thought he caught another disease around me. I could avoid all of this, I really could but Tony looks like a hopeless mess and I can’t leave him without securing a safety net by the end of this horrific trip.

Yet I can’t help but asked, “Do you _not_ want me to come with you? Because I can just go—“

“Yeah, I thought we're not competing on who's got more terrible plan, but here we are.” That awkward, quick sentence was loud enough for me to hear. Tony had few ticks when it comes to admitting truth and it was apparent: sentence delivered through small volume, jerky movement, rubbing the back of his head, feigning embarrassment at his own candor.

“I could wait at some obscure motel until the fight is over. But it’s got to be near Miami too though; my source is in that area.” Then it clicked for me. My face lit up for a second before shifting to horrified and quickly scrambled to find my phone. Tony picked up my sudden rush of anxiousness.

Subconsciously I grimace and Tony caught it seconds before I divert my expression. I had to come clean before he pries further, “Remember when I told you, I’m working on an investigation about private-sector ex-servicemen?”

Tony nodded and his eyes clearly waiting for me to continue, I bury my face into his shoulder as I showed him the phone call. Tony’s eyes widen, almost disbelieve tone yanked me out of my guilt. “You’re only telling me this now; he’s one of your sources?”

“I contacted him before I fly out to Tennessee, I should’ve told you—“I explained, guiltily.

“Well, it’s better late than never.”

“I’m waiting for any sort of angry pointing here, where is it?” Somehow this type of silence is worse than being yelled at. I am too afraid to look at Tony in the eyes, but the silence was palpable enough that I slowly look up.

Purely in thought, Tony had that thinking gaze again. Eyebrows creased added with humming low enough for me to hear before Tony said, “Okay, there’s no yelling involved. We’re going to work through this.”

Took a deep breath before I trailed behind him and begin a line of questioning that seems to be interrogatory rather than out of curiosity, “Hey, Tony. How smart is Killian?”

I stood next to him, and shared a space with him to push the second cart. Tony was browsing for what I think was a small drill, kept on tapping the handle bar and hummed. We're in an aisle full of electrical equipment at 6AM, neat. Tony looked my way, his eyes wandered around mine for a second before stated, “Smart enough to work with Mandarin, which is one of my theories.”

It took a few minutes of silence to formulate a respond, which I admit. I slowed my cart down as I observe Tony from behind while he walked along the electrical aisle. The air in the store was thick; breathing was turning into a task I am too focused on since Tony doesn't intend on breaking the quietude. I shift my attention to the rows of outlet on the shelves, took one and play ball with it. “Yeah, no—but, how _smart_ is he? I mean, growing limbs out of some needlework? He can’t be doing this on his own.”

Tony turned towards me suddenly, as I toss the outlet upwards. It fell near his feet before I playfully chuckled. Tony smiled, he took the outlet on the floor and tapped on the outlet as he approached me, “A bomb is not a bomb unless it’s a misfire—“

“The faulty explosion… you’re saying it’s unstable?” I saw bags under his eyes, despite the glasses. With our matching hats and hoodies, it doesn't really mask the fact that we are shopping for illicit purposes. Somebody should have alerted the authorities by now. Meanwhile, there is this serenity surrounding Tony despite having little to no sleep, maybe it's just the pesticides I smell yet his touch on my arm and affable resonance helped me distract from the impending—

“You’re not wrong… It’s faulty but he found a buyer and sold it to—“

“Mandarin.”

What is this? There are these funny feelings swirling in my stomach again. Sudden warmth traveled on my back, along the spine and to the back of my head. That's not okay; I haven't eaten since last night anyway. On the other hand, Tony narrowed his eyes in my direction, opened his mouth and closed it again before noting, “The way that works just now, it’s— I mean… Pepper and I do that sometimes.”

“What, finishing each other’s sentences? Oh sweetheart, you don’t have that many close friends, do you?” I reciprocated, rolled my eyes. I know I don’t say this often but Tony doesn’t have any right to have that twinkle in his eyes again.

The smirking doesn’t help me either; it confuses the shit out of me honestly. “I like your snark, heads on. But you got to get to fourth date to unlock my tragic backstory.”

We shared a smile as I took the cart and pushed it further. Due to my lack of concentration and tendency to take large steps, I bumped my right shin to the bottom rail of the cart. The sensation was intense enough for me to yelp, and for Tony to grimace after doing the bare minimum to warn me. ”Despite everything, I’m glad you’re just a klutz so I can still handle it.”

I tend to make clumsy bruises here and there, truthfully. It’s not only the usual feet-to-table fiasco, but also shoulder-to-wall and even legs-to-whatever-sharp-furniture. But soul-bonding was a two-way street, okay? “Excuse you, if anything you also caused me mental suffering. It’s all internal, _honey_. Have you been to a therapist before?”

There’s this odd pattern I pick up from conversing with Tony, is that he always dodge questions expressively with slurring words, almost too quick for me to hear. “Babe, I’ve been kidnapped, shot at, recently targeted by a terrorist group and I come out on top. I’m more than fine.” Weird flex, but okay.

If this is how rich people boast, I don’t know what to tell you. Because I’m pretty sure it contradicts the sobbing and hyperventilating Tony did few hours ago. “Yes sure. Can you, like, repeat that? I’m not sure I’m hearing you the first time… you know, after your millionth mental breakdown you had before we got here.”

Tony looked away from me and braced himself upon the following, “Thank you for being there for me, by the way. Unless you want to split after this is over. You said it yourself; we're never going to be alright.”

Tony leaned on the handlebar of his cart. His voice lowered at the end of his statement, I realized. Oh, _oh_.

This is not heartburn. Tony propped his chin up and continued, “I’m beginning to think you don’t want me. Like, not in some cute banter or whatever, but for real.”

“Tony.”

“I know I’m a piping hot mess—“Oh, no. Tony caught my mood swing. He caught my sadness, did this man just pout?

“We have to keep each other alive until this is over.” I heard Tony loudly sneered and I pulled my head while I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I can’t believe he’s about to pull the damsel-in-distress card on me.

“I’m sorry, who is: (a) a civilian; (b) has no training in simple self-defense?” There it is. I’m the one needed protection? Remember, who pulled him out of that last panic attack?

I reprimanded Tony, “Excuse me, but who is: (a) doesn’t have the Iron Man suit; (b) a fucking idiot?”

Tony scoffed irritatingly, “How is it that I'm the only idiot in this relationship. Our stupidity is synced, remember? Soul-mate?”

I roledl my eyes so hard, it hurts under these lights. “I can protect myself just fine.”

Tony pulled me closer by my arm and confessed, “You’re going to get hurt, and it’s going to be on me. I don’t like that on my conscience.”

I never intended to raise my voice at Tony since the whole enchilada unfolds. I was determined that the reasoning behind my staying lies partly on my behalf. But, my lips just love to say things before it registers through my head, “I’m not telling you how to do things, but get off my back. If it weren’t for the ‘soulmate’ thing, you wouldn’t give two shits about me.”

Okay, this was not heartburn. As I witnessed Tony slamming his hand onto the handle bar I can sense he was about to charge at me. I flinched at the sudden movement but I held onto my stance, fistful of fury whitens my knuckles. Tony stood close enough as I watched him pinch his arm, twisting it without breaking eye contact. I screeched in return; swatted away his hand from pinching himself further. My arm reddens.

“I just figured it out, most of the moronic energy came from you.” Tony settled.

\--

For a terrorist cell, the mansion sure looked imposing. It would be a grandiose strategy to swoop in through the gates, borderline stupid according to Tony. I parked the car few blocks over and before I dropped him off, I felt my phone vibrated. Lo and behold, it is Killian’s number. Before Tony got off, he put my phone in loudspeaker. The lady at the end of the line introduced herself as Maya and sent me the exact location for our meeting.

As the phone call ended with us in silence—which strangely I’m comfortable of—Tony declared, “You’re going to meet Killian, and get his info on Mandarin—”

“Yes, I’m not scared at all.” I didn’t mean to make my voice weirder than usual, but there it is. The nervousness has taken my breathing into irregular rhythm and I start to question the line of work I put myself in. This level of edginess doesn't equal the pay I get every month. The only thing keeping me tied up to this occupation is the sheer amount of curiosity I have to things. Somehow, being in the line of fire at my previous coverage is nothing compared to this one. I am about to enter the lion's den. However, when I turn to my left and see Tony, he has the fondest look even though I can sense his skittish vibe underneath that entire smile.

Meanwhile, Tony amused himself and offered, “Wow, you want me to hype you up? I’m good at it, ask Pepper.” Oh, god. All I thought of doing was to make sure he doesn't make silly choices, but I guess he is right: Our stupidity is synced. Okay, this is not butterflies in my stomach. It's flatiron to my chest and warm bubbles traveling up my insides, shaky breaths mixed with the warm cheeks while I bury my face into my hands.

“Leave me alone, Tony.” Better grab hold onto something before I ran out of control and I grip the steering wheel out of panic. Why, why am I feeling this way?

Tony grew concerned before he started patting my back and said, “Okay, you’re a liability. Get out.” Tony demanded yet his voice softens. His lips curled up as mine did.

I have to shake it off and pressed on, fake-tough it till I make it out alive. But I just to make sure of us before I jump into this... path. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

Unprompted, Tony patted my head and plastered that giddy realism straight through, “We’re _us_. More than that, you’re with me so we’re never gonna be fine.”

“If you keep that up, I might tolerate...” I gestured the whole Tony and continued, “...you.”

Tony with his sudden eyebrow raised while he feigned mock incredulity of my statement, “You _might_ tolerate me?”

That is as close as I am to note that being with him probably is not that bad. Underneath the over-the-top-mess of Tony Stark, he is simply a man in need of safe reassuring reality that doesn’t fuck him up. Wait, did I just confessed to him? “No. no. no, no. no, no, no. no. No. _No_. no.”

“Wow, those eleven no’s are very convincing.” That shameless fucking grin of his has to go—somebody fucking decks me already. Fucking end me. How I am the first one gave in to this?

“Tony—“

“I would love to get screwed up, if it means we’re doing it together.” Tony concluded and quickly realized—“I would use those sentences in widely different scenario, but you get it. Right?”

\--

I remembered Pepper admitted that she instantly gawked at Killian—he preferred Aldrich, by the way—upon their reunion back at Stark Industries. Despite the fact that he cooperated the whole ‘Mandarin’ occurrence, I can’t help but to display the same sentiment as Pepper did when we shook hands at his home in Miami.

One thing I noticed between his suave was a deep sense of disconnect. Have you got that vibe from a person before?

I get to ask him a few questions regarding my coverage—fuck, I don’t even remember what’s it about—while he answered it in normative, textbook remark straight out of his publicist's mouth. It took not more than ten minutes to get my information, before we switched onto other subjects I intended to pry. Few keywords were thrown but I started with, “I got an info from Stark Industries that you are working on biotech research?”

This topic quickly picked Killian’s interest indeed. His eyes took a dim view at me, yet his tone was welcoming. “After years of dodging president’s ‘ban’ on moral biotech research, my think tank has something in the pipeline.” Killian slowly pacing his sentences, cherry-picking it making sure I wouldn’t notice. I nodded as he continued, “Somewhere in our brain, there’s an empty spot. What that tells us is that our mind, our entire DNA in fact, is destined to be upgraded.”

Luring him in, the waiting game is almost over. “Is this the future of our ‘unstoppable’ military troops? The idea of cheating the fabrics of genetic codes?”

“It’s not just an idea, it’s a revolutionary act of improving humanity. Isn’t that how we evolve, as people?” Killian pompously declared, as he leaned back on his chair and swirling three small metallic marbles in his grasp.

Slowly pulling him in, interfering and mark time for the crescendo. “True, but I figured this ‘think tank’ would not just appear out of thin air.”

Killian nodded thoughtfully as he tilted his head, with growing suspicion headed at my direction. “The president has made a strong note on our biotech research but I think science is for every person—“

“You’ve made an offer outside this country, is that what you’re saying?” Just say it, say you’re working with Mandarin. Come on.

Killian raised from his seat and sat next to me. “Yes and no, how do you get your info again?”

I positioned myself to get better stance across this man. “I told you, Stark Industries. I have ears everywhere, Sir.”

“Hm. I also have ears all over, in fact—” Killian has this low pitch in his voice, too subtle to be considered threatening, “One of them told me, that you’re Tony Stark’s _it_.”

Okay, poker face on. “That’s a bit of a stretch, Sir. I haven’t met that person.”

“Let’s test that out, shall we?” Killian motioned a person to come by his left and emerging from behind an enclosed room the man from Rose Hill appeared, with tablet by his grasp. After the man handed the tablet to Killian and I, my eyes drifted to an interface of a live feed. A dinghy lower ground, with Tony tied up to a bed frame by the right-down-side of the feed.

Well, shit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I tolerate you, but you test me sometimes."

What is he trying to do, heart palpitation to the point of bursting? Also, is there not enough chair that they resolve to tie him up to a bed frame? Is it possible to sense fumes coming out of our nostrils?

Many questions left unanswered. With my apparent lack of defense, I figured the damsel-in-distress card would be on my set today. But alas, as I had seen onto the eyes of one Aldrich Killian who cannot wait to torture me, I took a peek at that live feed showcasing Tony in his restraint. Tony beat me up to it, surely.

By that live feed, I witnessed a woman sat across him a few meters away. Their lips murmuring and my lip-reading is rusty. Later I found out she was Maya Hansen, one of the leading scientists at Killian’s think tank and that she had a history with Tony.

Not that I care.

I couldn’t care less.

Okay, this is my _own_ crankiness, not Tony’s.

I don’t know which feeling is mine.

Everything falls at once and I can’t control my heart, why am I hurting?

Killian who took a gander throughout my mood-swing decided to switch the live feed onto the large screen in front of us. The man brood over my person before noting, “Fascinating how the brain works, isn’t it?”

The marbles twirled in his palm as I fight the urge to knock it out of his fucking hand. That clanking noise next to the vainglorious look coming from Killian makes it hard for me to remain calm. There’s one thing I detest more than dishonesty, it is self-righteousness. Killian—unaware of how irritated I was—continued to blabber, “The mind objectively calibrate the element surrounding our senses. Yet, it can also shift our reality, clouding our judgment because of an impairment.”

“What do you mean?”

“Emotions, Miss. That is your crutch.”

Since evoking emotion out of somebody who wore it in his sleeves—Tony fucking Stark—was not a walk in the park, Killian makes sure he got me first. Newsflash: I am the weak link, and the one brain cell I shared with Tony decided to inhabit the latter instead. To add the cherry on top, I suck at a poker face. Sue me.

My mind was loud enough to cancel out the outside noise until I heard Tony by the live feed, lowering his voice towards Maya. After attempting to unshackle himself loose and met with failure, Tony reasoned, “You used to have ideals, you wanted to help people. Now, look at you. I get to wake up every morning with someone who still has their soul.”

Again, Tony can be with whomever he likes since we are grownups.

Also, I have seen his images in various magazines with another woman. Why should this be any different?

Might I add, we only been acquainted for a few days?

Tony was nothing to me.

I should feel nothing.

Nothing.

“There it is, heartbreak.” Killian smiled victoriously. In seamless-ness, he straightened out his suit before taking his momentum and leaving his seat. Meanwhile, my eyes hadn’t been able to leave the sight of Tony as he seemed to be in slight discomfort and it’s not coming from his tied hands.

I am merely a spectator while Tony is facing his demise. But again, I took enough strength to pull a sharp look towards Killian, “How many times have I told you, me and him—we’re not...”

Killian’s hand hover above my countenance whilst he complaisantly divulged, “Your ‘it’ gave me the greatest gift I have ever received: desperation.” Successfully Killian riled me up, as my fist about to meet his face before his men stopped me. The corners of Killian’s lips arched up and he continued, “—I wanted to repay Tony the selfsame gift that he so graciously imparted to me.”

That maniacal expression brought similar anguish I had to when I heard Mandarin over the radio yesterday.

“Because the second you give evil a face—a bin Laden, a Gaddafi, a Mandarin—you hand people the target,” Killian concluded as he left my sight and whispering to his men by the door. Seconds later, I was scooted out onto an area before one of Killian’s men knocked me unconscious.

Was that the Iron Patriot?

\--

“Rhodey, tell me that’s you in the suit,” Tony called, as his suit fitted onto him like a glove. The only surviving baby, Mark 42 has left Harley’s garage and successfully landed on his person. Then again, the power is not stabilized as he is still unable to fly. Seconds later, the Colonel replied that he not inside the Iron Patriot and is in fact within the mansion.

Tony then proposed for a meetup by the main area of the mansion, “Someone I’d like you to meet.”

\--

Not too long ago...

Killian’s men had me inside the Iron Patriot suit, despite my whirling physical state. After the metal clanked and sealed me in, I attempted to raise my arms yet the suit barely move an inch. As though I was invisible, they ignore my plea to let me out. Do they not hear me or they muted the suit as well? I can’t tell. The men controlling the suit I’m in were sitting across me, inputting series of commands and launched me out of the mansion.

This is my nightmare.

A few minutes later, I descended upon the landing strip of—Shit, that’s President Ellis and he welcomed me as Colonel Rhodes? The suit forced me inside and sat me in with the staff at the back of the cabin. The aircraft departed and my heart leaped out of my chest. I could easily slide off the seat and melt into a puddle of a mess since everything was completely overwhelming. Instead, I felt shrank inside the suit added with wobbling knees and prickly skin.

The clock reaches 5 PM and the suit suddenly shot up, involuntarily hoist me up in the process. Locking the cabin door behind as it makes its way onto the conference cabin slowly before one of the staff approached to take a picture—

What the fuck, did I just blasted his face off?

Oh, no.

Oh, no. No.

Stop. Stop it!

Stop killing all these people!

Please, please!

Please, make it stop!

With unblinking eyes and desperate plea replied to nothingness, I saw President Ellis and the suit yanked him out of his desk. Afterward, its hand slithered into the President’s neck consequently suffocating him. Seconds later, cold air embraces my sobbing expression just as the suit unraveled my face.

President Ellis asphyxiated, “You’re one of them.”

“President Ellis, help—“ Only managing those words out of my lips whereas the suit had the President out like a light. Tears continuously streamed down my cheeks, incoherent noise out of me was sealed with ugly sobbing was soon interrupted for now I feel the weight of the suit. I figured Killian’s men had stopped remote-controlling the suit entirely.

The Iron Patriot draped over my body and seemingly stuffed, yet I feel eerily hollow within. On the plus side, I can manually maneuver the suit. Although, my freedom was short-lived because the suit electrocutes be light enough to pass me out cold.

Isn’t that the man from Rose Hill?

\--

The Rose Hill man had infiltrated the Air Force One, dressed as one of the White House staff. He tossed my benumbed body aside and inserted the President’s figure in, at interim the suit flew off the aircraft.

In the process of strapping himself a parachute, Iron Man struck him, “The president.” Tony had him against the window of the cabin, while the Rose Hill man flashes out a priggish smile.

“He’s long gone, Stark. Speaking of which—“ The Rose Hill man held up a detonator and blew off the back of the aircraft, with the locked staff inside practically sucked out into the sky. “—Go fish.” The Rose Hill man reveled. The smile soon faded as Tony blasted through the Rose Hill man’s torso with his Arc Reactor.

“Come with me, if you want to live.” Tony declared, clearly in jest. He tried to lighten the mood with that god-awful Terminator accent. If it weren’t for my battered state, I would strangle him again. As I gain my strength and sat down, the Iron Man suit unlatch itself. Where is he? I am about to ask Tony’s whereabouts but the arm of the suit gestured me to get inside it.

I shook my head vigorously and Tony coaxed me, “It’s better to die surrounded by your loved ones.”

“It’s the Air Force One, Tony. Better than that cocoon.” I motioned cross with my arms and Tony sighed.

Later Tony pleaded, “Hey, I need all hands on deck and this is it, okay?”

Begrudgingly along with hesitance I sat up and had my back facing the suit. In turn, the suit steps forward and engulfed me. No different with the Iron Patriot suit except for the AI who introduced himself as Jarvis, “Miss, you’re going to feel a slight discomfort but I assure you, it’s not lethal.” Human enough in its tone with a tolerable bed-side manner.

Did I hear this correctly? My ears picked up Colonel Rhodes’ voice behind Tony along the lines of, “You tailored the suit _before_ or _after_ meeting her?”

Cool as a cucumber, Tony explained to Rhodey and involuntarily spilled the beans over the comm, “You remember the little side project, correct? It was a soulmate-search interface I designed and mind you, a successful one because it only took less than a minute—“

“Why the fuck would you keep this from me—“ I was blindsided. More than that, I felt sold down the river because all of this could be avoided had Tony moot himself. A bit of _Hello, I'm the one attached to you, your end of that string, the soulmate, that's too cheesy but you get the gist_ wouldn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, Tony was prattling on, “—To find her but before I get to ask her out I figured, what’s the rush?”

“You got chicken-shit, Tony.” It took Rhodes to counterstroke Tony in one single blow and I was agreeing soundly.

Whereas Rhodes seemed to expose Tony’s guilt in strong strokes, Tony masked it by defended, “No, I’m not.”

“If you had introduced yourself, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” I was fuming and saw at the upper right corner of Jarvis’ interface that my blood pressure increased scantly.

“She’s not wrong.”

“Aren’t you on my team?”

“Tony, let me out of this thing.”

I can sense Tony flashing out his mischievous grin as he instructed me to fly off the aircraft, “I can’t let you out of my suit, potty-mouth. We’re going to do this so focus on my voice, okay?”

Fucking end me now, please. I am in an Iron Man suit, inside a plunging Air Force One while the passengers were in impromptu skydiving. Whereas Tony reassuringly articulated, “See those people? We’re going to help them and I’m going to help you from here. J, keep her safe.”

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis complied.

“You take the wheel now, honey.”

As I let out a small whimper, my feet refused to leap out of the aircraft. During a considerable amount of time, Tony managed to hyped me and later I sprung out of the aircraft out into the sky. I do not feel the wind striking my person as the suit blasted off into one of the nearest plummeting White House staff.

“How many of them falling?” I asked amid my breakdown.

Jarvis responded matter-of-fact, “Twelve, Miss.”

“How many can she carry, J?” Tony intercepted by the comm, endeavor to shield his concern.

Again, Jarvis replied, “Four, Sir.”

Amidst my misery, however, my mind charged up and I suggested, “Tony? Barrel of monkeys?”

Tony with his sudden sharp perception then answered, “What are you, a mind-reader too? Jarvis, find us a soft spot to land and calculate the descend. Honey, grab the closest one to you and I’m going to zap their hand so they can’t open it.”

Without missing a beat, Rhodes chirped and segued, “You two are awfully calm about this.”

Are we really? I mean, I’m the one plunging into the open waters below. I have to force myself to focus on retrieving the remainder of passengers, who by the way are doing marvelous job of barrel of monkeys with me in between the link. “Would you prefer me freaking out, because I’ll be happy to freak out.”

Jarvis notified that I’ve reached few thousand feet and now I’m pissing out of my balls, because one passenger was far from our reach about few feet west of us. Luckily, we were able to grab him while the suit managed to direct us towards the open waters and deploy the passengers safely.

“Where is he?” I inquired, while faintly hearing Tony cheered through the comm. I look on my right-side of the interface that my vitals are within normal range, yet I heard Jarvis soothingly told me that I experienced mild panic attack in the middle of the fucking sea. Despite our newfound friendship, Jarvis turned out to be far excelled in terms of this bed-side manner, I stand corrected. What better way to get acquainted rather than being inside the suit, huh?

“Eight minutes from where we are, Miss. I’ll direct you to him.” Jarvis intercepted and the suit carried me into where Tony was. I was a mess, and my body trembles at the accelerated speed. After much deliberation, I can conclude that I’d rather be in a roller-coaster than this one.

Few minutes later, the view of a small speedboat is within my line of sight and at the stern I witness Colonel Rhodes. He stood unwavering as I descend, later on he grab hold of my arms as I emerged from the suit completely bone-weary. Rhodes’ apprehension grew as he notice my eyes were swollen from the crying.

It was not a pretty sight, mind you. Rhodes laid me on the stern, by the edge as he called on to Tony who was at the bow and quickly I heard his hurried footsteps towards me. I sense that he was also in distress but he recovered and smiled as soon as he laid eyes on me.

“You—“ Tony said and continued, “—are a champ.” He approached me as we exchanged glances, suddenly he plopped by his forehead onto my shoulder and I involuntarily leaned towards his head. As Rhodes left us alone at the stern, we stayed for a few minutes before Tony started to check my person.

Every breath taken was molded with relieve. It was the first time we talk of naught yet I felt everything with him. Serenity and chaos folded into one and I don’t mind the lack of control. How can you tolerate somebody when he made you through this ordeal? My hand reached for the back of his neck, and Tony held my hands in return.

Subsequently Tony took a gander at me, his hands slowly tracing every scar I had which was in similar places as his. Wrists from the cuff at the mansion, below my eyes and few scratches on my legs. Afterwards, he looked at me again while his fingers tuck back few strands of my hair. On the other hand, with a faint smile I marched on, “You have all the cards but decided to fold.”

Tony’s smile faltered by a millisecond, I felt my stomach churned. “I’d figured, saying hello after this hiccup is sorted out would be a better idea, in theory.”

“How’s that working out for you?” I didn’t mean for the tone to reach sarcastic level, but there it is.

Tony snickers as he sat next to me, “There's this one time I tested out Banner's pants strength, how could it not ripped when he Hulked out—”

“Tony—“

“You don’t want to be with me, do you?”

“I don’t know...” I tried my most calm expression yet I sense how terrible it was carried out, “I mean, I’m not somebody who still has her soul.”

Out of nowhere, Tony was mustering the most heart-warming laugh which caught me by surprise, “I knew you were the jealous type. Don’t try to play it down.”

“I kinda wanna know who she is, though. Does she have any plans after?” My question lingers with teasing tune yet Tony raised his eyebrows in bewilderment.

Seconds later, Tony sheepishly confessed, “You actually have met her, depending on how often you guys have brunch. Do you do brunch?” It was my turn to look at Tony in astonishment and he continued, “Anyway, it was a long time ago. We ended it.” I took the liberty to conclude that it was Pepper, and it clicked with me when she said there has been few attempts made by her boss and she fell through. I distinctly remember, Pepper ended it.

I don’t mind that it’s Pepper, but I can’t help to tease Tony about it, ”Ouch honey, rejected by the CEO of Stark Industries.”

“Sweetheart, I just haven’t realized that what I need is here, close by.” Tony slowly implies. Here he is, in complete vulnerability and handing his heart on a platter. That shyness is apparent, it amplifies how touch-starved he was and desperately seeking a deep connection with somebody so, _so_ badly.

I can’t be that person. The Merchant of Death smeared blood on my hands. I don’t want to resent him later down the road every time I close my eyes and saw the countless lifeless men laid upon me. I love him, and I’m not afraid to love him senselessly. Yet, how many more destruction does it take?

“The Prodigal Son will take you home.” Tony stares onto the waters behind us, and I really am afraid to see his features which matches how broken he sound.

 


	7. Chapter 7

It was ‘festive’ at the abandoned port. Tony had followed Killian there since the latter planned on putting an end to President Ellis’ life. Rather symbolic too, since the President was tied by his wrists, stretched out from limb to limb, and was cocooned in the Iron Patriot suit.

Again, theatrics would be Killian’s greatest triumph if it weren’t used for psychotic purposes.

A plan was carried out: Rhodes would stealthily made his way to set President Ellis free and out of the premises while Tony assigned himself as the backup.

Having Tony as someone’s six was an experience, Rhodes regretted. The man was not good at handguns, Rhodes quietly admitted but can Tony at least held it right? Wasted on six bullets which met the air, barely grazed the lights.

Killian’s men managed to sniff out Tony’s antics with the bullets and hopped across to where they were. With quickness, Tony had asked Jarvis to start ‘The House Party Protocol’ which bring the arsenal more balanced against Killian’s molten-like men.

All those instances where Rhodes visited Tony, saw him hunched over the working table was to make dozens of… iron suits. Rhodes thought the line where madness stop and genius begin was awfully thin, as Rhodes saw Tony grinning from ear to ear looking at his creation.

“This is what you have been doing in your down time?” Rhodes incredulously stated.

Nodded as the truth sets in his tired eyes, Tony assigned Jarvis to, “Take ‘em to church.”

Meanwhile…

It was hollow inside the suit. She felt the space in between her body and the shell, despite the streamlined structure. It was molded in Tony’s figure, even the faint smell of wiring reminds her of him.

She’s not shying herself away from it now, no.

Having little to no topic of conversation was never a problem. Yet, this is an unusual predicament since she was in a flying armor while the driver was an AI. Her eyes scanned the interface and she began with, “So, Tony named his…”

Her voice lowered, looking for a suitable word: suit, iron bots, robots? This Jarvis picked up where she left off and in its static voice, there’s a small glint of gentleness. “Yes, Miss. Sir named almost all his suits. This one you’re in is Mark 42.”

She almost nodded if it weren’t for the limited space she had inside the suit, “The Prodigal Son?”

“Sir has the tendency to… nickname since in verbatim it is easier for Sir to list all suits in that approach.” The hesitance almost got her mistaken it for a person instead of an AI.

“That’s methodical of him. You are Jarvis because…”

She took upon its answer which leaned towards cheekiness than of robotic, “Just a Rather Very Intelligent System, Miss.”

The thought made her giggle and murmured, _what a dork_. Out of nowhere, her chest began to heat up. Chest heaved, as if hot-iron skillet was pressed onto it and her eyes started to water. Her hands reached for her chest but only met with the metal shell of the suit. Jarvis notified, “Miss, I detected a spark in temperature around your upper torso. Sir is experiencing the same temperature increase in similar area.”

“What has happened to him?”

Apparently…

Killian’s eyes were demented enough in brown, now it was fiery as well like the rest of his body. The man clipped the iron suit’s face off Tony as if it was mere tin can, and finally there they are inches away.

Tony was pinned on the ground, and Killian reveled in the fact that there were panic in Tony’s eyes. How can he not? When Killian heat up his fingers and point it onto the suit, burned Tony in the process. “You’re feeling stuck, like a turtle? Cooked in his little turtle suit?”

Killian took a momentum to strike through Tony, and the latter dismembered Killian’s arm and blasted himself off. Grunted in pain, Killian staggered off while his arm quickly grew back.

“Yeah, you take a minute.” Tony expressed.

\--

Killian’s men had diminished significantly since Jarvis eradicated them, marking them using their special heat signature. Therefore it’s easy to dispose the men with extreme prejudice. But it doesn’t mean that the league of suits escaped with no casualties.

The plan has maneuvered, made Tony the bait to lure Killian and his men out of President Ellis' area. Within few minutes, Rhodes has reached where the President was and took off in Iron Patriot.

Every time Tony went in and ejected himself out of the suits so often, he barely fatigued. Meanwhile, his mate was straining inside the Mark 42 despite having done nothing. The adrenaline rush covered him in stamina and not her.

Inside the bulkier suit, Tony slammed the blasters towards Killian. Out of irritation instead of pain, Killian strike Tony across the torso therefore slicing the suit in half.

Tony groaned as he fell off, hitting the metal ground. Seconds later, he heard Jarvis by his comm, “Mark 42, in bound.”

“I’ll be damned, The Prodigal Son returned.” Tony astounded to see the very problematic baby come to save him. His heart thump at the thought of her inside the suit, but he concluded that she wasn’t since he felt nothing. Then it has dawned on Tony that in this battle he was relentless, lack in regard to his own safety, and the adrenaline washes off him like the waves leaving to meet the sea.

For a second Tony felt bad for making her enduring these seesaw of emotions. But he knew she was tenacious enough for this, because she was resilient to say no to this life. _I mean, I wouldn’t be with me_ , Tony thought.

Second later, Tony stared back at Killian with boiling determination. His right hand extended backwards in order of The Prodigal Son to engulf him, but it hit the railing and scrambled into pieces.

“Look at that, your pathetic savior.” Killian spat.

Out of nowhere, Killian was smacked to the side with a steel frame by one silvery iron suit. “Hey, how dare you call my baby pathetic.” That lava-like man hit several stories down. Also, she would savor the look on Tony’s face if only the suit she’s in has built-in camera feature.

Then there they were.

The silence were pulsating, trembling breaths mixed with intensely felt bruises since the adrenaline has worn off. She arised from the suit and Tony’s body almost went for a hug before he stopped himself. Meanwhile, her eyes locked onto his chest where the heat mark rested and in an instant Tony knew what ticked her off to go back.

Tony directed the subject away and immediately started with, “It’s that your way of winning me back? Claiming Mark 42 was your baby?”

Trying to suppress her smile, she walked slowly towards Tony, “Did it work?”

“Still debatable.” Tony shrugged, but that goofy smile plastered onto his features. Lighting him up like Christmas tree, it’s the first time she ever seen him this excited.

“You want me to beg?”

“Save that for the fourth date.”

Unanticipated, the ground shook beneath their feet and she felt herself yanked downwards by a pair of glowing hot hands. The suit behind her could not save her fast enough that she fell into the void below.

Few words would not suffice to convey Tony’s despair. He sensed pang on his head, and gasped loudly as if something hit his back. Then he saw Killian, appeared from the opening where she fell and smirked, “Well, there she goes. Weakling for a soulmate, isn’t it?”

The sorrow in Tony’s eyes emulated into despondence and he seethed, “That’s where you’re wrong. She’s stronger than both of us.” Tony motioned his hands pointed towards Killian and Mark 42 picked itself up and attached itself to Killian’s body. Then, Tony assigned, “Jarvis, do me a favor and blow up Mark 42.” Killian’s raging scream muffled away as the suit sealed itself and exploded. In an instance, Tony hopped off as the barge which burned down and barely able to save himself.

One of the suit successfully assist him in getting down the barge, but its components were badly broken that Tony hit several steel frames on his way down. With a wobbly roll, he fell on the ground with a thud. Tony noticed Mark 42’s shell was at his feet, sweltering from the explosion. Then out of the burning barge, Killian walked through.

After surviving the Mark 42 explosion, Killian limped towards the already incapacitated Tony. Merely human now, his intentions on creating perfect humans were his undoing. Killian’s lava-like figure shed rust and through gritted teeth he said, “You said you wanted Mandarin. You’re looking right at him. It was always me, Tony. I’m the Mandarin!”

A blast hit Killian’s left and managed to swivel him unconscious. The silvery with dark lined iron suit spotted an explosive warhead inches away from it, kicked it towards Killian and blasted him to kingdom come.

“Please tell me he’s dead.” The muffled sound from that iron suit made Tony perplexed so much that he momentarily forgot he was in pain.

The suit clank itself open and she was out, staggered towards Tony. Meanwhile, Tony said, “I thought you were— I felt it—“

“Dead? I got that suit of yours helping me.”

They sat next to each other in the middle of that chaotic battlefield. Tony never felt more at ease, and she rested on her back slowly because it hit one of the railings before the suit saved her. She sighed in relief as Tony laid next to her, “Is this what you do during those insomniac phase? Because this can’t be healthy for us.”

“Threat can happen anytime, alright? That time I just— had to make them to protect people I care about. That’s you, by the way.”

Few minutes with no words between them, she let out a childish moan, “You know, I am very scared of space.”

Picked up the teasing tone, Tony replied irritatingly, “Okay.”

“And I’m also scared of spiders… Well, not Spider-man—”

“Alright—“Tony grew even more annoyed when she laughed at his response.

“Is that not a threat? You’re going to make iron-spider-suit to fight it too?”

“I get it, it’s ridiculous—“

“I’m here when you feel things are out of control, really. When your brain is just… mean to you. Like, I get it and I’m here. But please, cool it with the massive producing iron suit thing.”

“Well, about that…” Tony motioned Jarvis to foresee the second phase of the ‘ the House Party Protocol’. Her eyebrow raised confusedly as she looked at Tony.

The remaining league of iron suits flies about the abandoned port and exploded. In turn, Tony turned towards her and said, “Kind of planning this for the third date.”

For a while, they looked at each other. Again, no words passed and they felt enough. Tony looked down at her lips and leaned forward, as she reciprocated and they kissed. She senses the heat crept up her back and onto her neck as well as ears as the kiss deepened. Despite the tiresomeness eating them up, their tongue danced lazily and it felt so, _so_ good. His lips curled up in between the kiss as he cupped her face. In the end, their lips parted and their foreheads touched.

Unlike the commercial, both of them pulled the thread.


End file.
